


Nineteen Minutes

by choosinghope



Category: Original Work
Genre: Absent mother, F/F, Murder, Terrible Father, like seriously, major angst, neglectful father
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 14:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7175870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choosinghope/pseuds/choosinghope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emily Perry was only thirteen years old when she ran away from home. All she wanted was to find her mother, to be happy, to feel cared for, for once in her life; but as she finds out, not everything ends in sunshine and rainbows. Through the forest with new friends and curiosities, Emily discovers a whole life she never knew, but like all protagonists, no one close to you is safe forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nineteen Minutes

I am made of memories.

My grandma used to tell me that if a story started off happily that more than likely it will end in tragedy. I remember asking her what tragedy meant, my five year old self sitting patiently on the floor, between her legs as she braided my hair, waiting patiently for her answer. She chuckled and told me that a tragedy was something bad that happened to someone who didn’t deserve it. I remember asking her if she has ever had a tragedy happen to her; and she answered with a sigh and said, “Draga mea, everybody goes through a time of tragedy or tragic loss at some time or another.” 

I never thought much about tragedies after that until my father left my mother two years later, then the realization washed over me, and in between my fits of confusion and sadness I realized that this would be my first tragic loss, and that I wasn’t living a love story with a happy end. I was living in a battlefield, and my life would end just as bloody. I was living in a horror film and our names wouldn’t survive until the credits where the actors names flew across the screen. I was living in a tragedy, just like everyone else, and in my story, I was playing the hero.

When I was thirteen years old I tried running away from home. I succeeded so I guess I didn’t try, I did. I packed my backpack with a change of clothes, and a few snacks from the pantry, then while everyone was sleeping, in the early hours of the morning, I snuck out through my window and ran across the grass. I must’ve either slipped or tripped on a rock, because the next moment I found myself closing my eyes out of natural instinct and I was falling onto the grass. When I opened my eyes I saw glistening streaks across the grass, and at a closer examination I saw that it was morning dew drops on top of the grass. It was so beautiful, and I couldn’t find an answer in my brain for why no one else has noticed this before, I wondered if I was the only one. And so it goes.

After a moment I slowly got up, brushing the dirt grass off of my sweater and pants I took notice of the stains on my knees and frowned. I just ruined my favourite pants, well I guess now they were my favourite… I turned around to gather the shirt that had fallen out of my backpack, when I saw a trail of crushed grass that led to where I was standing. Just my selfish act of trying to achieve what I desire most, seeing my mom again, caused the death of innocent living things. Who knew that one person could have such an impact on the world surrounding them? The marks that we leave aren’t made of stone and steel, they are made of human flesh and bone and at the core, emotions. It just shows how fragile life is; today we are here, who’s to say that tomorrow we might not be? Today might be my last day, just like tomorrow might be my last day, and the next, and the next. We should always treat every day like it is our last.

After all, I would hate to have regrets on my deathbed.

I turned to look back at my father’s house and could help the wave of guilt that washed through my body, leaving me with a decision, it was now or never. Taking a deep breath, I gripped the straps of my backpack tightly and turned back away from my house and hurried down the sidewalk. 

It seemed like hours had passed, and they must have because the sun was beating down hard and hot on my body. I stopped for a moment, setting my backpack on the ground so that I could take off my sweater and tie it around my waist. While I stood on the side of the road, I looked off to my left at the forested area, subsequently reaching into my backpack to grab my water bottle and take a quick sip. Then I twisted the cap back on, shoving it back in my bag, slinging my backpack onto my right shoulder before I turned to walk down a path that seemed to twist and wind through the forest. I’d never been through here before, my teacher said that it was dangerous, that men who liked to take girls like me hid out in there, but my father always told me that things of great beauty lived out here. Sorry Mrs. Perry, but I trust my father’s word more than yours… after all you’re the one who thinks that global warming is a liberal idea, and that they forged the statistics. And so it goes.

Walking through the forest, I slowly started to feel more at ease with my surrounding, the worries that once racked my nerves now slowly falling to their ends, and the imaginative, day dream side of my brain went to work with occupying my mind as I walked, to keep myself from growing bored. I thought of our current president, and I soon after thought about the one before him, and the one before him, and so on. And it hit me clear as a bell that the country I lived in was not the ‘Land of the Free and Home of the Brave’ but it was the ‘Land of the Pretentious and Home of the Materialistic Human Robots.’ It was sad to think about how different I was from everyone else, because it meant that I was all alone in this worst. I didn’t even really have my father, because he never took time to talk to me anymore. He was always busy with something. He always had something last minute and left it to me to find something for myself if I wanted to eat. I tried to tell my one of my friends about it, but all she did was cut me off mid sentence to tell me about the new seashell phones she got for her music.

My father forgetting about me began to be a regular occurrence after that. First it started with him forgetting to do laundry, then it went to him forgetting to buy groceries, which left me going most nights without food, and then it went to him forgetting about me entirely. He would lock himself in his room and wouldn’t come out for hours. And when he would come out, he would just sit in the living room, and he would watch tv for eternities at a time. Home stopped feeling like home soon after that, after all home was just a room filled with my safest sounds and thoughts, but my father had to take that from me just like he took my mother from me. And so it goes.

I looked up at the sky, narrowing my eyes to get a good look at the placement of the sun in the sky. I was near the top, so I assumed it must be around noon. I wondered for a moment if my father noticed I was gone yet. He probably hasn’t though, and for some reason I get a pain in my chest. I don’t know why I’m so upset by this, I mean, my father stopped being my father when he forgot that he had a daughter and then… I was hurt because the one person I was supposed to be able to trust. The one person I was supposed to be able to count on, wasn’t there at all in a mental sense. He didn’t care that he has a daughter, and I think that is what is upsetting me. I started to soon think about the fact that I was running away, that I was leaving him, and it rattles my brain for a second but soon anger flushed through my body, pushing all the guilt away and instead left pain. Pain and anger, and anger, and anger. I stopped short in my tracks and furrowed my brow. Why was I feeling guilt?! I’ll be better than I was now! He should be feeling angry not me! He shouldn’t be making me feel so bad because he is supposed to be parenting me! I’m not supposed to be parenting myself! Why am I sad? I have no reason to be sad! And the thing is, I don’t even miss him! I don’t miss him one bit, and I don’t think I ever will. He was neglectful in caring for me so in turn I will be neglectful in ever thinking a single sad thought about him. I don’t miss him, I miss the old memories. I miss the hot chocolate at three a.m. because neither of us could sleep. I miss him walking me to school every morning, I miss the time we stayed up late because he got a bad haircut at the barber and was stressing out over how stupid it looked. I miss when he then asked me if I could fix it, and of course my ten year old self says yes. I miss the memories, not him.

After all, I’m made of memories.

I was so angry. My brain was so overcome with such a strong feeling of anger that all I want to do was scream. So I did, I screamed, and I stomped around, I grabbed rocks and threw them, and I kicked trees until my feet hurt. I don’t know how long I kept this up, but at some point I turned around and there stood a girl. Instead of out of anger, I screamed out of fear and surprise, and I jumped back in surprise. She seemed surprised by my response, and in turn she jumped back, her eyes widening. We both stared at one another for some time before I cleared my throat to speak.

“Hi... “ I whispered softly, my eyes darting around to look for something that I might need to defend myself. Her voice was nearly inaudible as she whispered a soft ‘Hello’ back and knowing that she was as scared as me, comforted me slightly.

‘My name is Emily Perry, what are you doing out here?”

The girl swallowed and licked her lips. She looked nervous, probably trying to find something to say.

“My name is Deanna Cormsby, and I could ask you the same thing..” I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I’m going to find my mom, now it’s your turn to answer why you’re out smack in the middle of the forest. You don’t look like you live in the community because your clothes are super dirty, and no parent in their right mind would let you outside in that, let alone the forest.” Expect for my father, I thought. It was after I commented on her attire that I got a good look of her. She was beautiful actually. She looked a few years older than me, but that’s okay I guess. And did I saw that she was beautiful? I’m starting to think I underestimated that. For her, beauty seemed too tame to use; beauty was used to describe faces in magazines, not girls you meet in the forest. A strong power, symmetrical cheekbones, with an unblemished face; none of these described Deanna Kay. So that means that describing her as beautiful would be the incorrect thing to do. Perhaps I should assume that I cannot do it justice with words.

She cleared her throat and brought her eyes up to look into mine, then quickly looked away when she realised I was staring at her too. 

“I live out here with my papa, and auntie, and a few others. They sent me out to collect firewood for tonight ‘cause it’ll be cold.” Okay, now she must be lying, fire does not provide comfort, fire destroys things, books, didn’t she know that?

“Now that is surely a lie, fire is not something that humans search for. Fire brings death and destruction not warmth.” She looked at me like I was an experiment, and she was the hardworking scientist who wanted to figure out every last inch of me.

“Emily, fire is a good thing. Fire is the reason me and my family have a meal to eat every night. I’m gonna take a guess and say that you live with them,” She said the word like it was poison on her tongue, like I was poison on her tongue. “unlike you, we actually need to fight and fend for our dinner each night. Sometimes we don’t even get a meal to eat!”

“You don’t know me! And as a matter of fact I know what it feels like to go without a meal. At least you have people who care for you! My father forgot about me. Your people don’t forget to feed you, they worry about not feeding you! My father forgot to feed me! Sometimes I would have to stay at school for days on end because that was the only place for me!” She was quiet, and I didn’t know I was crying until I felt a tear slide down my cheek, and furiously I wiped my eyes. This stranger didn’t deserve my tears.

“I’m sorry… and you said you were going to find your mom? Well you’re a good five day walk from the next town… maybe you’d like to travel with us? My aunt was going to send me into town to get some stuff, so maybe I can take you to your mom? You know… if you want of course…” I looked at her, my eyes still a little blurry from the tears that threatened to fall, and without a second thought I ran over and wrapped my arm around her taller body. I worried for a moment that I overstepped my boundaries, but then she hugged me back and it was like all my worries went away. But the pain was still there, bright and burning even though I tried my hardest to shove it away. You don’t need water to feel like you’re drowning, do you? No. 

And so it goes.

“Yeah…” I croaked out after a moment, that would be really nice, thanks…”

“Your welcome, I never turn down someone I know who needs help.”

“Well how do you know who needs help?” It was all so confusing, how could she know someone was in a silent pain.

“I watch people.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know, I just love to watch people too much I guess.”

“Oh.” And so it goes.

 

And then I was fifteen and she was seventeen.

 

One. The next day seemed to go by in a blur. Two? Six? Nine? All the days began to just blur into one long life I forgot to live. Every night is my dreadful promise I’ll wake up again, to see the light of a day that still doesn’t break me. But I am barely surviving, Deanna is my lifeline, and I don’t think she minds it that much. And I’ve found that it would be a sin; not to love her. My demons fell in love with hers, calming the chaos in our souls, in ourselves. 

I don’t how many days have past, but surely it has been more that five because I can recall many nights where we all sat by the fire, because the only thing I could focus on was Deanna, and how amazing she looked with the fire lighting up her face like that. Lately, she’s all that I’ve been focusing on. The days all started to blur together again, and soon the intense heat of summer started to weather down, and the once warm nights got colder, till the sweater I had brought with me all that time ago wasn’t enough to keep me warm. I tossed and turned in my bed, not really a bed, it was more like a sleeping bag which was situated in Deanna’s cabin room, not able to find a comfortable position.

“Having some trouble?” Deanna asked me, watching me with an amused expression from where she was laying on her actual bed.

“Yes.” I grumbled, huffing as I turned to face her. “I hate this fricking thing. I can’t wait till I can get myself an actual damn bed like you. I swear, I’ve always got knots and kinks all over my back and in my shoulders when I wake up.”

“Want me to shame them for you?” She asked, and I giggled.

“No, I don’t think that’s necessary, but thanks anyways…” We were silent for a few moments longer.

“So… Claire… did you know that those firemen used to prevent fires not start them, and also do you want my bed for the night? It won’t kill me to sleep on the floor for one.” She bit her lip from what I assumed was nerves as she waited for my answer.

“De, I’m not taking your bed, it’s yours, and no I didn’t know that, but that’s pretty random and weird to just blurt out.” I rolled my eyes but looked up at her from where I lay in the darkness, and she lay in the moonlight. She looked not beautiful, because she wasn’t beautiful, she was more than that. She looked… she looked just perfect.

“No seriously, I don’t mind.” She pushed her blankets aside and sat up in her bed and stared down at me. “Come on, get that lazy booty of yours up and into this bed so I can get down there and get to sleep.”

“No.”

“No?” When I looked up at her again, she had this devilish look in her eyes and it took all I had to look away, because I never wanted to stop looking at her.

“Yeah…” I mumbled nervously, looking down. The sound of weight being lifted off the bed was heard, and then I was being picked up and tossed into the bed. Out of instinct I grabbed onto the nearest object, which by luck happened to be Deanna, and she fell onto the blankets next to me.

“I meant to do that.” I said, grinning after a moment.

“Dork.” She rolled her eyes, then turned away and pulled the blankets over her body. Damn it.

I am made of memories, but then why can’t I remember how I met Deanna? 

When I asked her, she just shrugged and said that memories come and go just like the seasons, and I thought that was pretty nice. 

I wonder if it’s possible to say hello to someone you secretly love without it sounding a little like “I love you.” It’s growing increasingly harder to be around Deanna, because I’m realizing that I’m having some not so platonic feelings about her, and it’s not helping that our sleeping arrangement is now in her bed. Together. Like, one day we came back from a day we spent fishing, and when I went into our room to take a quick nap while Deanna’s aunt, Barbara, cooked dinner for us all and it seemed that my sleeping bag had suddenly gone missing, and instead there was a bigger bed, now situated in the middle of the room. All I could do was stand there with my eyes closed, arms by my side as I prayed to a merciless god to make this bed disappear, and my sleeping bag and Deanna’s twin bed reappear in it’s place when I open my eyes. But instead, I felt hands slide over my eyes, and the warmth of a body close to mine.

“Guess who?” The voice whispered. I didn’t need to guess, because I knew who it was instantly, Deanna. I would always know her, I could know her by sound and smell, I could know her by the shadow she cast. I would know her in a lump of blankets, and I could most definitely know her by touch. Hell… even in death I would know her. And so it goes.

I turned around to face her and found our bodies closer than I had anticipated. As if she had read my thoughts she looked down at my lips as I looked at hers. It was a second later when I took a step back and a look of disappointment flashed across her face, but it was gone as soon as it came. She walked past me, brushing her shoulder with mine as she entered the room and walked over to sit on the bed.

“Hey, so I know we just got back, but gramps has another request for us.”

“What?” I asked as I turned to lean against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest. She was a little hesitant at answering, which worried me, but I pushed that thought away as she opened her mouth to answer.

“He wants us to go into town to get a few supplies, and also we’re running a bit low on girl stuff so it’s best we go while the weather’s clear.” I nodded, then walked over to the window to shut the curtains. “What are you doing?” She asked.

“I’m gonna take a nap. And since we’re probably gonna leave early tomorrow I need as must sleep as I can get.”

“Oh. I think I’ll join you then.” She smiled, and I smiled back.

“Now let’s just hope they remember to wake us up for dinner.” I teased as I got into bed.

They didn’t.

When I woke, it was to Deanna shaking me lightly.

“Em. Emily. Em n’Em. Sugar Plum.” I opened my eyes, and she was smiling widely down at me. “Come on, hurry, let’s go see the people. You’ve got nineteen minutes before we’re leaving.”

At her warning I hurriedly jumped out of bed and grabbed the warmest clothes I could find, and dressed into them. I looked at the worn down clock on the wall and saw that I had five minutes. I grabbed my bag, slipped on my shoes, then Deanna all but carried me out of the room, I hadn’t exactly woken up all the way yet. She proceeded to drag me out to the small, poor excuse for a living room, where she had prepared us a simple breakfast of fish and fruit. We ate in a comfortable since, and a few minutes later we were out the door, but were careful to make sure that we didn’t wake anyone.

We walked mostly in silence, which I was thankful for because it gave me time to think, and that’s something that I needed to do a lot of to in order to sort through my thoughts. Sometimes I find it hard to believe that Deanna’s an actual living, breathing person. It’s like she’s something out of a dream, but if dreams come true then so do nightmares. I really hope that Deanna’s the one for me, but even if she’s not the one, oh dear god, she’s still so damn significant. Even after all this time, I’m still into her. You know, if I had a flower for every time that I thought about Deanna, I would be able to walk through an endless garden. Oh how she is always clouding my thoughts! I’ve never really loved anyone like this before, and now that I’ve met her, I know why people write stories and movies about it.

6 a.m. All I can think about is her lips on mine.

12 p.m. She asked me if I was tired, but I didn’t hear her and said ‘I’m sixteen.’ She must think I’m an idiot… 

7p.m. We’re going to stop for the night soon, it’s starting to get dark.

After another hour with my constant whining, Deanna let us stop for the night, and we made a small fire as we set up our sleeping bags close to one another so we could use each other as a source of heat, not that I minded. We were silent as we ate the pieces of salmon we saved from breakfast, and I kept stealing glances at her but she kept staring at the fire. It’s okay though, because the fire lights up her face as if it is the sun, and she is the planets, and stars, and everything beautiful in the universe. She must’ve seen me out of the corner of her eye, because she turned to look at me, a smile lighting up her features brighter than the fire before us.

“Hi.” I whispered, my mind floating back to the first time we met.

“Hey.” She whispered back, nudging my thigh with her knee. Deanna alone, could make the song in my head take flight. She drives me crazy, and I hope that she doesn’t realise this, because if she did, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.

 

Three. Three days later, and an hour past noon, we were finally arriving near the edge of the forest, and suddenly my biggest desire from all those years ago floated through my mind as a small reminder of what my goal actually was. As if she could sense my distress, Deanna reached for my hand and gave it a small, comforting squeeze; as if to say ‘I’m here, don’t worry, I’ve got you.’ We set our bags in a hole in a nearby oak tree, and made sure that we we’re wearing our clothes that weren’t stained with the life of living out in the woods. Right before we were about to leave, Deanna stopped, and ran back to her bag, then came back with a bottle of perfume, spraying us both. I closed my eyes, and slowly inhaled as she went to put it back. It smelt like vanilla, like Deanna, like home. 

We slowly exited the forest, and stepped onto the sidewalk and just kept walking, like we had never been in the forest in the first place. It made me smile, because as we walked, my mind played out this fantasy where our family, the group, lived out in the community instead of the forest and her and I were walking to the mall to go shopping for a party that was going on after school that day. It was pleasurable to imagine, but I snapped out of that daydream as I heard my name being called. I looked to Deanna, thinking it was her for a moment, but then I heard it again, and Deanna gave me this look of fear, and I did not like the way like emotion looked on her. I heard it again, but this time it was closer, and I turned around to see a man walking towards me. Deanna grabbed my wrist and whispered run, and never have I ever ran that fast. She never loosened her grip, and it gave me some bit of comfort.

The man was chasing us now, and it didn’t seem like he was going to give up anytime soon, then out of the corner of my eye I saw one of those firemen with a salamander on his arm, and a phoenix-disk on his chest, and then my eyes traveled up to his face, and soon after I immediately recognized him as an old neighbour of mine. Deanna pulled me, as I had slowed down, and pulled me down an alley ran, and we ran. We stopped once we were near the roadway, and held our breaths for a few moments to see if we could hear the running footsteps of our chaser, and luckily we could not. She hugged me, and we proceeded to cross the roadway. It wasn’t even half a second after we crossed that a car zoomed past us and Deanna and I exchanged looks.

“That was close.” She breathed out. 

“I know…” I nodded in agreement.

We ended up getting lost while running away from our pursuiter, and I held her hand as an attempt of keeping myself calm, luckily she didn’t think anything about it. We walked for an hour or so before we reached a neighbourhood. I looked around, and felt a tug on my hand and I turned to see that Deanna had stopped walking, and bent over to pick a dandelion off of somebody’s grass yard.

“What is that you have?” I asked.

“A flower, have you ever heard of rubbing it under your chin?” She rubbed her chin lightly with the flower, smiling softly.

“Why would you do that?”

“If it rubs off, it means I’m in love. Has it?” I couldn’t tear my eyes away, because I’ll be dammed the flower rubbed off.

“Has it?” She repeated.

“Yeah.” I smiled, then Deanna let go of my hand, and bent over to grab another dandelion. Before I could react, to protest that I didn’t want to, she put the dandelion against my chin, and she giggled, and I felt myself grow weak.

“What?” I asked nervously.

“You must be in love.” She grinned widely, bringing her hand up to show me the flower. I blushed, and turned to look away.

“So who is it?” She asked. The sound of tires rubbing against asphalt was heard before I could answer, and a car drove up beside us, a loud shot ringing in my ears, and like that… she was gone… 

It was in this moment that I understood why people leapt from bridges. There were no words to describe how unbelievably hard it was for me to breath in that moment, and I couldn’t hear, whatever it was must have blown out my hearing, but I am pretty sure I’m screaming. 

Yes, I am screaming.

Deanna is not filled with stardust, or outer space, or everything perfect in the universe like I had previously thought; she’s filled with blood and it’s spilling out onto the sidewalk. Her insides are spilling out onto the goddamn sidewalk. The first time we met and stories about the men who memorized entire books is dripping down her arms, and she is coughing and spitting out every memory of us staying up late together just so we could talk and the time we held hand by the fire just because we could and it’s all melting into the cracks of the sidewalk. Those are not stars rushing out of Deanna, my universe, it’s her and everything she is. And just like that everything she’s ever said to me comes rushing through my head, and everything I’ve ever wanted to say pounds right on through, and her old thoughts and mine are all jumbled in my brain, and I failed. I failed without living without regrets, because my regret is her. I regret saying hello. I regret not telling her I loved her, and I’m kneeling by her body, cradling her close to my chest as I please out words of mercy to the merciless god, praying that he’ll let my star live, because she is my motivation, she has become my entire universe. She is the art that hangs in a museum, the masterpiece that took years to complete because the artist wanted it to be just perfect, and she was, she is.

“Cl-Cl-” She can’t even get my name halfway out before she is coughing up blood, and I can feel my pants growing warm, and she’s growing cold, and no please don’t take her from me! I looked down and the heat I was feeling was her blood, and I cried even harder if it was possible.

“Deanna don’t you dare leave me. Do you hear me don’t you ever leave me!” I screamed, holding her tightly. She just gives me a small smile and looks up at me, and dear god I’ve never seen anything so terrible and so goddamn tragic look so absolutely perfect in my entire life.

“Co-Come on…” She coughed. “my little” cough “songbird. I” cough, more blood. “wouldn’t ever leave you.” I leaned down to kiss her forehead and when I went back up, I saw her eyes closing. 

“Deanna, De, open your eyes. Come on, open your eyes for me.” She didn’t respond to me and I felt like a part of me died in that moment.

“Come on!” I screamed. Her eyes opened, and I wish they hadn’t because right then I saw the life completely drain from her eyes and it felt like my entire heart was being ripped out. This was not supposed to happen. Oh god, all I want to do is sleep next to her, and that’s all I want to do. I want to come home to her, but home is just a room filled with our safest home. I’d much rather fuel a fantasy, than deal with this reality right now. I want to hold her hand, I want to be close to her, I want her.

“I love you!” I cried out. “I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you!” I cried until it was sound only.

It seemed like an eternity, but in reality it was nineteen minutes, and I was soon being pulled away from her, and I kicked and I screamed for them to let me go. Nineteen minutes of my life that I would never, ever forget. She was my universe and I needed her close to me. She was dead, and I wanted to be dead. The two big men dragged me away, and a third injected me with this clear liquid. It was like they heard my pleas for death, because everything quickly went black and I lost consciousness.

I woke up hours later in a hospital, and all the blood that once covered me was gone. As I was opening my eyes, I heard hushed whispers, my name being thrown around lightly. I was helped into a sitting position and as I opened my mouth to say thanks, the man who had chased Deanna and I earlier was inches from me, and I screamed, trying to push myself away. He jumped away, and I felt a hand on my shoulder. For a moment I had forgotten about what happened to Deanna, and a gentle hand was placed on my shoulder. I thought it was her, and I turned to open my mouth, but instead it was a woman, and I realised that Deanna was dead. And I began to cry uncontrollably again. The woman sat on the bed, and held me close, whispering comforting and reassuring words as she rocked me slowly. It took me a while, but I eventually remembered the warm feeling of a mother’s hug, and I mentally connected the dots.

This was it. I found her. I cried harder and she just kissed my temple and told me I would be okay. 

“How can I be okay, when the one thing that has kept me okay will be six feet underground with her?!” I sobbed. They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but that’s a damn lie. Because tonight Deanna died, and I died. What didn’t kill me left scars and ruined my lungs, it dried out all my tears, and will leave me awake at three in the morning forever.

After a few hours and half a million tests, the doctors deemed me okay, but recommended I see a psychiatrist from now on, probably for the rest of my life. On our way home, I saw our neighbour with the salamander on his arm and the phoenix-disk on his chest leaving the fire building, and I made a note to myself to see him again. He seemed interesting. Deanna loved to watch people so I’ve decided to give it a try.

And did you know that when you tilt your head back, and let the rain in your mouth it tastes just like wine?

I didn’t… Deanna taught me that.


End file.
